Side Effects May Include
by DeathValleyQueen
Summary: Chris has been kidnapped, and now he's infected. If he intends to avoid a starring role in Wesker's plans, he'll need to find a way to reverse the effects, but is he fighting a losing battle?
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Side Effects May Include...

**Pairing: **Albert Wesker/Chris Redfield

**A/N:** **I don't own Chris and Wesker, because if I did, things would be different. I wrote this for fun, and I'm not profiting from it at all. The things that are in italics are thoughts.  
**

Chapter One:

The last thing Chris remembered before the darkness took him was sitting at his desk, typing out an email to Claire. He remembered surfacing from his unconsciousness at one point, but then he felt a sharp pain in his arm and passed back out. He woke up on a gurney in a strange white room. His wrists and ankles were bound to the gurney by thick grey straps. He yanked experimentally on one of them, but was not at all surprised when it didn't give an inch. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Chris took as much of a look around the room as the straps would allow.

The room appeared to be some type of laboratory. There was a table to his left with dozens of Petri dishes and beakers on it. There was also a dry-erase board with complex mathematical equations written on it in neat, blocky black letters. A bunch of X-rays were tacked up on the wall next to the dry-erase board.

_Where the hell am I?_ Chris thought to himself. While he was pondering the possibilities, he could feel a certain degree of panic rising in this chest, but his rational mind was able to keep in under control.

Somewhere behind him, he heard an automatic door open, followed by footsteps and part of a conversation.

"The tests show everything is normal," said a voice.

"Tests be damned! Something is wrong here," another voice replied.

"We can't disobey orders. Keep monitoring his vitals," the first voice continued.

"Wesker said he should have woken up by now. How much did you give him?"

"I know what Wesker said, and I gave him exactly as much as I was told to give him."

"Well, you'd better go tell Wesker he hasn't woken up yet."

"Why me?"

"You're the one who put him back under when he woke up the first time."

"Whatever." The door closed, and the footsteps soon died away again.

_I should have known Wesker was somehow involved in this…_ Chris thought. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps approaching. The door to the laboratory slid open, and Chris heard a voice that unmistakably belonged to Wesker.

"I can't even trust you to drug an already half-unconscious man?" Wesker asked, his voice low and dangerous. One of the men Chris had heard talking earlier mumbled a reply. Wesker said nothing, but strode across the room to the gurney Chris was strapped to without a word. The brunette didn't say anything as Wesker looked down at him. The blonde's eyes narrowed, and he whirled around to face the two younger men.

"So," he began. "Not only can you not be trusted to drug a man; I can't even trust you to watch him? The two of you are hopelessly inept. Now, get out of my sight!" Wesker snarled, jabbing his finger in the direction of the door with his last sentence. The two scientists left the room. Wesker walked back to where Chris was and looked down at his captive again.

"Good morning, sunshine," he sneered. "I was afraid you'd died." Chris snorted.

"Like you'd give a shit," he replied.

"Oh, but I would," Wesker crooned, reaching down to brush a chunk of Chris' hair off of his forehead. The brunette flinched at the touch. Wesker chuckled. "Fear not, dear heart. I'm not going to hurt you… For now," he added with another chuckle. "I need you. You're going to play an integral part in my new genesis."

"You sure like to hear yourself talk, don't you?" Chris asked, rolling his eyes. "And not even in your dreams would I help you." The corners of Wesker's thin lips curled into a smirk, before he turned and walked across the room. Chris cringed, wondering what the older man had planned, and turned his head to look at Wesker, only to find the blonde standing in front of the table with the Petri dishes and beakers, with his back to his captive.

Wesker turned around, and Chris saw that he had a hypodermic needle in his hand. The syringe was full of a caustic-looking liquid. Wesker flicked the syringe with his finger and squeezed a small amount of the liquid out to rid the syringe of any air bubbles.

"Wouldn't want you to suffer an aneurysm," said Wesker.

"You're too kind," Chris replied sarcastically. Wesker didn't reply. He wiped the crook of Chris' left arm with a cotton ball that he assumed, from the smell, had been soaked in alcohol. Chris flinched at the sudden coolness on his skin. He didn't start putting up any real resistance until Wesker curled the fingers of his left hand around Chris' arm, holding the syringe in his other hand. Wesker tightened his grip on Chris' arm.

"Now, now, Christopher," Wesker taunted. "I'm giving you this miraculous gift whether you like it or not. If you struggle, you'll only make it harder on yourself." Chris stopped fighting, and let out an exasperated sigh.

"What the hell are you injecting me with?" he asked Wesker through gritted teeth.

"You'll know soon enough, dear heart," Wesker replied with a chuckle, before plunging the needle into Chris' arm and squeezing the liquid into his bloodstream. A surprised sound made its way out of Chris' mouth as the strange substance coursed through his veins. His eyes slid out of focus, and it felt as though his veins were full of molten metal instead of blood.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" he slurred, yanking hard on the straps around his arms. Wesker didn't answer his question.

"Excellent…" he said quietly, a smirk making its way across his lips. "Excellent…" Wesker's voice was the last thing Chris heard before he felt a sharp pain in his side, and slipped into unconsciousness once more.

- To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I know some of the things dealing with Chris' infection might not be completely accurate, but it'll make sense later, I promise.

Chapter Two:

When Chris first opened his eyes, he momentarily forgot where he was and what had happened. He sat up, rubbing his eyes before he realised. _I'm not strapped down anymore…?_ He looked down and noticed he was no longer sitting on a gurney, but on a rather comfortable bed. He slid to the edge of the bed and tried to stand up, only to feel a sharp pain in his side and slump back onto the bed.

_What the hell did he inject me with?_ Chris wondered. He also wondered how long he'd been out. His internal clock was all screwed up, and there were no windows in the room, nor was there a clock. Feeling slightly defeated, Chris flopped back down on the bed, wincing as the motion caused the pain in his side to intensify momentarily.

Chris had no idea how much time he spent lying on the bed, just staring at the ceiling, but eventually, the heavy metal door to the room opened. Chris didn't bother looking over to see who it was. He figured it must be Wesker, seeing as the two young scientists that were supposed to have been watching him previously had failed in their tasks.

"You still alive over there?" Wesker called from the doorway. Chris finally turned his head in Wesker's direction. The blonde smirked. "I thought so."

"I'm going to ask you one more time what you did to me, before I'm going to have to get angry. Now, what the **fuck** did you do to me?"

"Temper, temper," said Wesker, dismissing Chris' outburst. "I've given you a whole new life, a whole new purpose for being, and the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be for you."

"A whole new life? What the hell is **that** supposed to mean?" Chris asked, his confusion almost tangible in his tone. Wesker's smirk widened.

"Uroboros has accepted you, Christopher," Wesker replied. His simple sentence sent the reality of the situation crashing down around Chris. Infected. He was infected. His disbelief must have been apparent on his face, because Wesker chuckled, and handed him a small mirror. "See for yourself," the blonde continued, a tone of barely concealed triumph present in his voice.

Chris' hand shook as he took the mirror from Wesker. He was afraid to turn it over and see what had happened to him. Breathing slowly in an attempt to control the fear rising in his chest, Chris slowly turned the mirror around, and the first thing he saw was that his eyes had turned from their usual brown to an unnaturally bright reddish orange. Chris gasped, and the mirror slipped from his hand, shattering as it hit the floor. Focusing all his energy on keeping himself from hyperventilating, Chris barely heard what Wesker said next.

"You're not out of the woods yet. This is only the very first stage of your transformation. You've got a long way to go, and I'm sorry to say, it will be rather unpleasant at times… The pain in your side should fade in a few hours, however." Still somewhat in shock, Chris nodded silently. The sound of his stomach growling accompanied by an unpleasant gnawing sensation drew him out of his fog.

"If you can stand up, I'll take you to get some food," said Wesker. Chris swung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand up again. Wincing as the sharp pain in his side returned, Chris managed to hoist himself into an upright position.

_Fuck this…_ Chris thought to himself. _There's no way in __**hell**__ I'm becoming like him. There has to be a cure; it's just a matter of finding it._ He then realised that Wesker would probably figure out what he was up to, and possibly kill him. _I'll have to play along; make him __**think**__ it's working…_ Satisfied with his decision, Chris made his way unsteadily across the room to where Wesker was waiting.

"I'm afraid you'll have to be locked in here most of the time, until I can be sure you're progressing as you should be," Wesker drawled, typing a complex series of numbers into a small computer panel next to the door. Chris made a futile attempt at memorizing the numbers as Wesker's fingers flew across the keypad. Hearing the locks inside the door click, Wesker turned the knob and shoved the door open before walking out into the corridor. Chris followed him slowly, clamping his left arm to his side to try to alleviate the pain. Wesker pursed his lips as he held the door open for Chris.

The locks slid back into place as soon as the door closed. Wesker started down the hallway, not caring that Chris couldn't keep up with him.

"Where are we going?" Chris called out.

"Do you want to eat, or not?" Wesker replied. Chris sighed. He should have known that, regardless of his supposed position in Wesker's "new genesis," nothing would change. Chris limped as fast as he could to try to catch up to Wesker. The blond turned and scowled at Chris as he fell in beside him. Chris had wondered where he was, but the cold, sterile environment led him to believe he was in one of Wesker's countless laboratory facilities.

A few minutes later, Wesker and Chris came to a set of heavy double doors at the end of a long, desolate hallway. Wesker pushed the doors open, and Chris followed him into the room. It was a cafeteria, of sorts, and there were several other people in there; each of them staring blatantly at Chris as he and Wesker walked past them. Chris looked down at the floor. He knew why they were staring at him, and for a moment, he wished that he, too, had a pair of sunglasses. After what felt like forever to Chris, he and Wesker reached the other end of the cafeteria. He noticed that it was a buffet-type thing and took a tray, a plate, and utensils from the neat stacks at the end of the buffet table.

Once Chris had gotten his food, and some coffee to go with it, Wesker led him to a small table along one of the walls. It wasn't until after they sat down that Chris noticed Wesker hadn't taken any food for himself; he merely steepled his fingers and peered at Chris through his ever-present sunglasses. Chris wondered momentarily if the blonde even kept his sunglasses on in the shower. The thought was immediately followed by an image of Wesker in the shower. He shook his head violently, to try to rid it of the image.

_Where the hell did __**that**__ come from?_ He wondered, surprised at himself. He hadn't had any of 'those' types of thoughts about Wesker in a long time, and he'd thought he'd completely eradicated them. Chris sighed. _Guess not…_ He thought, as the image flashed before his eyes again. He wasn't aware of how tightly he'd been holding the coffee mug until it shattered in his hand. Wesker didn't bother hiding his amusement.

"What's so damn funny?" Chris demanded.

"You are, dear heart," Wesker replied.

"You're hilarious," said Chris, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And quit calling me 'dear heart'!"

"As you wish; and you had better be planning on cleaning that up, Christopher," Wesker said, with the last word turning into a sneer.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep your pants on," Chris snapped. "I was getting there." As he piled the bits of ceramic into a neat little stack on his tray, Chris wondered why, exactly, he'd chosen the phrase 'keep your pants on.' Unable to come up with a satisfactory answer, he straightened up, cracking his knuckles. "What do I do with this?" He asked, gesturing to the tray.

"Put it on that conveyor belt over there," Wesker replied, pointing to a window somewhere on Chris' left. The brunette turned and crossed the room, ignoring the obvious stares of the other people in the cafeteria. He slid the tray through the window onto the conveyor belt before making his way back to where Wesker was standing.

When they got back to the room that Chris assumed was 'his' now, Wesker punched the code into the panel, and then gestured for the younger man to enter first. Once Chris was back inside the room, Wesker walked through the door, letting it slam shut behind him.

"Is there anything you require, dear heart?" Wesker asked. Chris' hands balled into fists.

"I told you not to call me that!" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Chris found himself pinned against the wall, with Wesker's left forearm across his throat.

"I **own** you, and you presume to tell me what I can and cannot call you?" Wesker snarled, his face mere inches from the other man's. Chris' hands scrambled to find purchase on Wesker's shoulders in an attempt to push him away. As this was happening, however, Chris' already slightly enhanced senses carried the scent of Wesker's cologne to his nose. His hands, which were already on the older man's shoulders, clenched around handfuls of Wesker's black trench coat. The last thing Chris saw before he yanked the blonde closer to him and crashed their mouths together was Wesker's trademark smirk spreading across his lips.

Wesker's forearm was still across Chris' throat, but he didn't care. His rational mind was screaming at him, and he did his best to ignore it. He knew so much had changed since the last time he was in this type of situation with Wesker, but the taste of the blonde's mouth gave Chris some weird sense of nostalgia.

_What the hell am I __**doing**__?_ Chris scolded himself. _Wesker is the __**enemy**__!_ He told himself. But then, he realised that he didn't care. He wanted to touch Wesker, or he wanted Wesker to touch him, or… **Something**. Right as the thought crossed Chris' mind, Wesker broke the contact between their lips, and Chris glared at him. He then tried to grind his hips against Wesker's but the arm across his throat limited his range of motion. Wesker still didn't move his arm, but let out a low chuckle and reached down to undo Chris' pants with his other hand, before shoving them down past his hips.

The sudden rush of cool air on his skin was slightly uncomfortable. However, any unpleasantness faded away as the older man wrapped his hand around Chris' shaft. Wesker stroked the brunette's length a few times, experimentally. Chris' hips bucked forward in an attempt to increase the friction. Wesker let go of Chris' cock, earning him a scowl. The blonde pecked his former subordinate on the lips before spitting into his palm and returning his hand to its former position.

Wesker began stroking Chris, slowly at first, but with increasing speed as he settled into a rhythm, admiring the look on the brunette's face as he bit his lip in a valiant attempt to keep from making a sound. The blonde stopped moving his hand entirely, drawing a frustrated growl from the younger man. As Wesker resumed his ministrations, he noticed a thin trickle of blood making its way down Chris' chin from where he'd broken the skin of his lip with his teeth.

"Give in to me," the blonde whispered. Surrendering, despite his better judgment, Chris moaned softly as Wesker's hand sped up again. "Good boy," Wesker said, before kissing the brunette's neck once. The tone of Chris' voice changed as his breathing became more ragged and his eyes fluttered shut. Wesker's hand slowed and he tightened his grip on Chris' member, pushing his left arm down a little harder on his throat. "Look at me when I'm jacking you off!" he snarled. Chris squirmed slightly in Wesker's grip before opening his eyes again, earning him another kiss on the lips. "I want to see how much you like it," the blonde whispered, his lips brushing against Chris' ear.

Wesker's hand resumed its previous velocity, and Chris moaned again, louder this time. A shudder ran through his entire body, and his knees buckled as he came. Wesker's arm across his throat was the only thing keeping Chris vertical as his legs failed to hold him up. The blonde withdrew his left arm, and the brunette slid to the floor, still breathing heavily. Reaching into one of his pockets with his left hand, Wesker took out a handkerchief and began wiping Chris' fluids off of his other hand with it.

Tucking the handkerchief back into his pocket, Wesker chuckled to himself. Chris looked up at him.

"What-"

"Side effects may include, among other things, inexplicable arousal," Wesker explained, with some horrible type of amusement in his voice. "You're progressing a lot quicker than I thought," he finished, looking extremely pleased with himself. He turned and walked to the door without another word.

"You mean-" Chris called out, but Wesker was already in the hallway, shutting the door behind him. Chris drew his knees up to his chest, not caring that his pants were still around his ankles. He bit back a sudden massive urge to vomit. His infection was progressing at a disturbing rate. He sank down into a pit of self-loathing, hating himself for how easily he'd given in to his lust. _I have to find a way to fix this…_ he thought, resting his chin on his knees and focusing all his energy on keeping his food down.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Side Effects May Include...

**A/N:** **I don't own Chris and Wesker, because if I did, things would be different. I wrote this for fun, and I'm not profiting from it at all, etc. etc. ad nauseam. The things that are in italics are thoughts. And, I'm forever indebted to the lovely Passion and Love for all of her help with this story. **

Chapter Three:

Chris had no idea when, exactly, he passed out. When he woke up, he was still sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest, and still naked from the waist down. He heard footsteps outside the door, and sprang to his feet, cringing as an uncomfortable pins-and-needles feeling flooded his legs. He yanked his pants up around his waist, and zipped them back up, just as the door slid open and Wesker strode into the room. Chris glared at him.

"What the fuck do you want?" he demanded, resisting the sudden urge to hit Wesker that bubbled up inside him. The blonde started to pace back and forth in front of the door.

"Actually, dear heart, I came to ask what you wanted," said Wesker. Chris' eyes narrowed as he glared at the older man, biting back the string of obscenities that threatened to spill out of his mouth. He kept quiet because he wanted to avoid a repeat of the previous day, even though the thought resurrected a fraction of the 'inexplicable arousal.' He pushed the thought from his mind and focused on Wesker's words.

"What do you mean?" he asked. The blonde sighed.

"Are you really that dense? I would think even you would be able to answer such a simple question."

"Well, I want you to fix me and let me go the fuck home. That's what I want," Chris replied, his voice steadily increasing in volume.

"I already have 'fixed' you," said Wesker, making quotation marks with his fingers. "And you know I cannot allow you to leave."

"By 'fix me,' I meant for you to reverse this godforsaken plague you've infected me with," Chris snapped, making air quotes with his fingers as well. The blonde laughed.

"It's far too late for that, Christopher. It was too last an hour after I injected you. Uroboros has merged with your DNA. The progression of your so-called infection will be a lot less painful and unpleasant if you simply accept the fact, and embrace it. We will be gods, Christopher, and-" Wesker never got to finish his sentence, because Chris lunged forward, and his fist connected with the side of the blonde's jaw. The first blow caught him by surprise, but he dodged the second, and soon had the younger man in an arm-bar.

"There goes that defiant streak of yours, rearing its ugly head again," the blonde whispered. Chris struggled against Wesker's grip, trying to relieve the pain in his arm while not allowing himself to think about the way the blonde's lithe body was pressed up against him. Wesker loosened his grip on Chris' arm slightly, before wrapping his other arm around the younger man's waist. "You miss this, don't you?" Wesker asked, his hand sliding down to rest on Chris' belt buckle. Chris' body was telling him to relax against the older man, and the infection-fueled lust threatened to make its way to the surface again. Chris shook his head.

"No. You're a monster, and you probably always have been," the brunette hissed through gritted teeth. Wesker laughed, and it was a cold, hollow sound.

"Your mouth is saying one thing, but it appears that your body begs to differ," the blonde sneered, rubbing Chris through his pants. The brunette let out a soft sigh, and Wesker smirked, thinking he'd successfully regained control of the situation. However, in one swift motion, Chris stepped hard on Wesker's left foot, and swung his right elbow back, catching the blonde square in the solar plexus. Wesker stumbled backward a few steps, surprised. The younger man whirled around and settled into a defensive stance. The blonde was still doubled over, trying to catch his breath. "You… just… made a big… mistake," Wesker said slowly.

"Paper," said Chris.

"What?" Wesker asked.

"I want paper. And a pen," Chris explained, not moving from his defensive stance. Wesker straightened up, adjusting his clothes.

"You try my patience, Christopher, but it's only a matter of time… Very well. You'll get your pen and paper, but it won't save you." The older man then turned and walked back towards the door. It was only when Wesker began punching the digits of the security code into the panel that Chris lowered his hands.

"And I want some food too!" Chris shouted as Wesker left the room. The blonde made no indication that he'd even heard the other man's request.

Once he was alone, Chris walked over and sat down on the edge of his bed. As much as he didn't like to admit it, Wesker had been right. His own body was betraying him. He stood up, and walked over to the small bathroom connected to 'his' room, closing the door behind him. He stripped out of his clothes and took a quick look at himself in the mirror above the sink. Aside from his eyes, nothing about his appearance had changed, so far as he could see.

Chris walked over to the shower, and turned the water on and set the temperature as cold as it would go. He stepped into the spray, a soft hiss escaping his lips as the icy water ran down his skin. He had no idea how long he stayed in the shower. It wasn't until quite some time after the uncomfortable feeling in his lower body had subsided that he turned the water off and stepped out onto the tiles.

Once he had changed back into his clothes, Chris walked back into the other room. Chris padded across the room to the table, and noticed that someone had been in the room while he was in the shower. On the table, there was a marble notebook, a pen, and a sandwich on a paper plate. He sat down at the table and uncapped the pen before he realised he had no idea what day it was. He did some quick math in his head, and figured out that it was his third day in the facility. At the top of the first page of the notebook, he wrote, "Day 3," and his handwriting was a messy combination of print and cursive.

Chris decided that, if he was going to find a cure for Wesker's so-called 'gift,' he would have to document everything that had happened to him for future reference. Taking a bite out of the sandwich, Chris began recounting his experience thus far, cringing slightly as he remembered how easily he'd given in to temptation the previous day. _It was the virus…_ he convinced himself. Once Chris finished writing down his version of the past three days, he decided he would have to keep the notebook somewhere that wasn't easily accessible. After a few moments' thought, he decided to keep it in his bed between the mattress and the box-spring. It was a stupid idea, and he knew it, but there wasn't anything written in the notebook that Wesker didn't already know. He figured that he wouldn't worry about it until he had to.

As a feeling of boredom crept up on Chris, along with a touch of cabin fever, he realised he should have asked for something other than just paper and a pen. For a moment, he half-jokingly considered trying to figure out a way to carve a shank out of his toothbrush. It was after that moment that Chris remembered what Wesker had said about locking him in. Wesker had already told Chris he was 'progressing' quickly, and the brunette wondered if, soon, he would be able to wander around by himself. Surprisingly, Wesker had thus far been a man of his word. Only time would tell if he would keep all of his promises.

Chris' question was answered the next morning when he woke up to discover a piece of paper with a long string of numbers written on it on his bedside table. He changed out of his pajamas and walked over to the door with the piece of paper in his hand. He took a closer look at the piece of paper. The code for the door was longer than most peoples' phone numbers, and written underneath it in neat, blocky letters were the words, 'watch your step.' Chris typed the code into the panel beside the door very carefully, not wanting to find out what would happen if he screwed it up. He was slightly surprised to hear the locks click open after he punched in the last digit.

Opening the door slowly, Chris poked his head out into the hallway and looked around. He then stepped out into the corridor, letting the door click shut behind him. He folded the piece of paper and stuck it into one of his pockets before starting off down the hallway in the direction opposite of the way Wesker had led him to the cafeteria. Whenever Chris would pass any of the other scientists working in the facility, they would either stare openly at him, or talk amongst themselves in hushed voices.

_Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm a freak._ Chris thought to himself. _You can thank your boss for that._ He was looking down at his feet and not watching where he was walking when he bumped into someone walking in the other direction. Chris looked up to see who it was he'd bumped into, and found himself face-to-face with Wesker.

"Christopher," he began, slightly surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"You left the door code on my nightstand, so I figured I'd explore a little bit," Chris replied, feeling sheepish for some reason.

"I did no such thing," Wesker snapped. "And I would suggest you go back to your room," he added, with a dangerous edge to his voice. Chris knew better than to start an argument, so he turned around and started walking back in the direction he'd come from. When he was halfway down the hallway, he turned around.

"How about you send me some books or something, so I'm not so damn bored all the time!" he shouted.

"We'll see," was all Wesker said.

When Chris got back to his room, he retrieved his notebook and started writing out what had just happened. _If it wasn't Wesker, who else would have given me the code?_ He wrote, his handwriting getting sloppier and sloppier. _Who would want me wandering around this place?_ He was unable to answer either question, and returned the notebook to its place between his mattress and box-spring before flopping down on his bed, defeated and puzzled.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** **I don't own Chris and Wesker, because if I did, things would be different. I wrote this for fun, and I'm not profiting from it at all, etc. etc. ad nauseam. The things that are in italics are thoughts.**

Chapter Four:

By the time Chris woke up the next morning, the code to the door had been changed. He noticed that his senses of vision and hearing had been heightened further. He was surprised to find a small battery-operated radio and two paperback books on his table. A sudden feeling of suspicion shoved its way into the forefront of his mind. Why was Wesker giving him what he asked for? He didn't mind, but it was very unsettling.  
Wesker's acquiescence to Chris' demands wasn't the only think that seemed suspicious. He was still no closer to figuring out who had given him to door code. His mysterious helper hadn't left him anything since then. Aside from reading and listening to his radio, Chris spent a pretty good portion of his time documenting the subtle changes taking place in his body. The more things he noticed, the more nervous it made him, as he had still made no headway in figuring out a way to reverse his infection. What Wesker had described as the 'inexplicable arousal' had only reared its ugly head a few times in the past week or so, and Chris was quite proud of having been able to resist each time, although he noticed it had become more and more difficult for him to do so.

Midway through his second week in the facility, Chris awoke to find another piece of paper on his bedside table. This one also had a long string of numbers on it, but written underneath in the same neat, blocky letters were the words, 'keep left.' Chris wondered what the meaning could be behind the words as he changed out of his pajamas. It wasn't until after then that he realised the words might not be as abstract as he thought.

He carefully typed the code into the panel next to the door, and hung a left once he got out into the corridor. Keeping an eye out for Wesker, Chris meandered around whichever wing of the facility he was in. It was then that he realised that, while he was wandering aimlessly, he could have been searching for a way to reverse the effects of his infection. He'd finally stopped jumping out of his skin every time he looked in the mirror, but that didn't mean he'd accepted his fate. He refused to believe that his only future was to stand beside Wesker as the world was destroyed.

He stopped walking and peered into one of the laboratories as he walked by. Finding the room to be empty, Chris slipped quickly through the door, closing it behind him. The room he'd entered looked a whole lot like the one he'd first woken up in, but for all he knew, there could be hundreds of identical rooms, all in the same building. Looking around the laboratory, Chris spotted a desk in the corner on the other side of the room. He decided that that would be as good a place as any to begin his search. As he made his way across the laboratory, Chris passed by shelves upon shelves full of books about bacteria, microorganisms, and… viruses! He stopped dead in his tracks and yanked a big hardcover book off of the shelf closest to him. After putting the book down on the countertop to his left, Chris opened it up and flipped to the back in search of an index. Once he found the index, Chris realised he didn't really have a clue what he was looking for. He turned to the page with all the words that started with "u" on it, and Uroboros was nowhere to be found.

_That would've been too easy…_ Chris thought to himself as he closed the book and slid it back into its place on the shelf before walking over to the desk. The first drawer he tried to open was unsurprisingly locked. He tried the top drawer in the middle next, and was rather surprised when it slid open. Chris rifled through the stacks of paper until he reached the bottom of the drawer. But wait… It wasn't the bottom of the drawer. Chris stuck both of his hands into the drawer and took out a rectangular object.

It was a picture frame. He turned it over in his hands to find that in it was a picture of himself and Wesker. It was from way back in their S.T.A.R.S. days, but not long after they'd started seeing each other. His grip tightened on the frame as he tried to prevent the memories flooding back, along with the horrible reality that it had all been a lie. Too late. Chris' mind had gone straight back to their first sexual encounter, which had occurred not long after the photo in his hands had been taken; the same day, actually. Chris could remember the entire thing with crystal clarity. He could still feel his mouth on Wesker's, and Wesker's hands in his jeans, and his mouth around Wesker's length, nervous and uncertain.

"Such a long time ago, wasn't it?" The sound of the older man's voice threw Chris backwards out of his memories, and the picture frame fell to the floor with a clatter. He turned to face Wesker and found his fight-or-flight response kicking in, but it wasn't until Wesker had closed the distance between them and put his lips to Chris' that the brunette realised what the 'something else' was.

Chris' mind was still grappling with the sudden change in the situation, but his body had already made the decision for him. He slid his arms around Wesker's neck, without stopping to think how the blond would react. If the action bothered Wesker, he didn't let on that it did, and simply places his hands on the younger man's hips. Any qualms Chris' conscience may have had about the situation went straight out the window as he unwound his arms from Wesker's neck. It was then that Chris realised that this situation felt different than the others, although he couldn't quite figure out why. It wasn't until after he'd broken the contact between their lips and started kissing Wesker's neck that it dawned on him.

Right then, he wanted to touch Wesker much more than he wanted Wesker to touch him. Chris shoved the older man back against the countertop behind him, earning himself a disapproving glare from his former captain. Wesker's irritation was soon superseded by his curiosity as he wondered what Chris was going to do next in his futile attempt to display some sort of dominance. He allowed Chris to kiss along the side of his jaw line and down the side of his neck to the hollow of his throat. Only when Chris reached up to remove Wesker's sunglasses did he wrap his hands around the younger man's wrists.

"Watch yourself," Wesker hissed. Chris looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling sheepish. Wesker reached down, tilted his chin up, and kissed him again. Between when he'd looked downward and when Wesker had kissed him again, he'd spotted a rather noticeable bulge in the front of the blonde's pants. He'd been aware of his own arousal, but at that point, he was more interested in getting Wesker off rather than getting himself off. Dropping to his knees, Chris unzipped Wesker's pants before sliding them down past his hips. Chris ran his tongue up and down Wesker's entire length, keeping his eyes on the blonde's sunglasses; as if doing so would reveal to him what the older man was thinking; but his face remained as unreadable as ever.

As Chris slowly took the tip of Wesker's member into his mouth, the blonde dropped his hands to the countertop behind him, letting out an almost inaudible sigh. It had been far too long since his cock had felt something other than his own hand, and Chris' mouth wasn't disappointing. Wesker smirked. It was almost cute; the way the brunette was trying so hard to please him. Out of nowhere, Chris opened his mouth as wide as he could and leaned forward, very nearly taking all of Wesker into his mouth. The older man's fingers clutched at the edge of the countertop, and he gritted his teeth as his bit back a moan. Chris took his mouth off of Wesker before repeating his previous action, only to successfully take the entirety of the blonde's length into his mouth. Wesker's knuckles were turning white from the force with which his fingers were gripping the countertop.

"You… were never able… to take all of me in the past; have you been practicing?" Wesker taunted, trying desperately to keep his voice level. Chris didn't reply, only paused to run his tongue up the underside of the blonde's cock. The next time Chris' lips met up with the base of his shaft, Wesker began thrusting slightly into the younger man's mouth. The blonde could feel the pressure building up inside him, and he knew he was close. He knotted his fingers in Chris' hair and rolled his hips, trying to push himself over the edge. He came a few seconds later, as his eyes rolled back in his head, and he inadvertently let a nearly imperceptible moan escape his lips.

Chris' first instinct was to spit, but in one swift motion, Wesker pulled out of the brunette's mouth and clamped one of his hands around his jaw; effectively holding his mouth shut. Chris then understood what Wesker wanted him to do, and complied, wincing slightly as he did so. It was a taste he'd never quite gotten used to. Wesker tucked himself back into his pants.

"As much as I enjoyed that," he began. "I would advise you not to go rifling through my things again. How many times must I tell you? It's far too late for you to revert back to your old self," said Wesker, before pinching Chris' cheek in a patronizing way and exiting the laboratory.

A few minutes later, Chris had made his way back to his room. His mind was whirling away a mile a minute, and he was filled again with self-loathing, along with confusion and frustration. He retrieved the marble notebook, and sat down to write out what had happened, along with the few scraps of information he'd picked up from the papers in Wesker's desk. The blonde's insistence that it was "too late" for a cure only made Chris more determined to find one.

After jumping in the shower, Chris changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed. He had no idea how long he lay there, replaying the sound of Wesker's moan over and over in his mind before finally falling into a shallow, fitful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** **I don't own Chris and Wesker, because if I did, things would be different. I wrote this for fun, and I'm not profiting from it at all, etc. etc. ad nauseam. The things that are in italics are thoughts.**

Chapter 5:

That night was the first night since Chris had first woken up in the laboratory that he actually had a dream, and then remembered it when he woke up. In his dream, the infection had fully assimilated into his body, and he was completely under Wesker's control. He jerked awake, and nearly fell out of the bed. Untangling his legs from the sheets, he dragged himself out of bed. If his nightmare was any indication, he was going to have to make a move fast if he was going to cure himself.

The first problem he needed to solve, however, was finding a way to get out of the room. He paced the length of his room for a few minutes, pondering his options. The door was out, seeing as he didn't have the access code. Unable to come up with any other ideas, Chris rolled his eyes, exhaling frustration. It was then that he noticed the air conditioning vent on one of the walls, close to the ceiling. Grabbing one of the chairs from the other side of the room, he climbed up to take a closer look at the vent. _It's going to be close…_ he decided, but he was determined to squeeze himself through the vent.

_It's the only way…_ he thought. Somehow, he managed to take the screws out of the corners of the vent cover. With a moderate amount of difficulty, Chris scrambled up into the vent. He didn't really have a specific idea as to where he was going, so he started off in the same general direction in which he'd gone the previous day.

After about ten minutes, Chris heard voices from somewhere below him, and froze in his tracks. The sounds appeared to be coming from another vent further ahead of Chris. He inched forward until he could peer down through the vent into the room below. In the room, Chris saw two young scientists in matching white lab coats. He could tell from their voices that they were the same two men who had first been assigned to watch him; the same two men whom Wesker had called "hopelessly inept." Chris was slightly surprised that the two of them were still alive. He strained his ears, trying to catch a part of what they were talking about.

"We have to go now," one of them said urgently. The other one swore.

"I know that, but you know I have to close this first," he said.

"There's not time. Come on!" shouted the first one.

"Ugh, fine!" the second one said, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. Then, the two of them hurried out of the room, letting the door shut behind them with a slam. Without stopping to think what the scientists had been so worried about, Chris carefully opened up the vent below him, and climbed down into the room. Unsurprisingly, the room was yet another laboratory. Instead of bookshelves, however, this room held shelves and shelves full of cages. Upon closer inspection, Chris realised that, inside the cages, were gerbils.

_What the hell could he need __gerbils__ for?"_ Chris wondered to himself, and then he realised; he probably didn't want to know. He slowly made his way across the lab to a desk that was heavily laden down with books and stacks of paper. Up on the computer screen was a page full of information, apparently documenting the behavioural patterns of the gerbils. He took a closer look at the screen and found that it was a file in a larger database. He wondered if, maybe, there could be a file about him somewhere in the database. Sitting down in front of the computer, Chris clicked out of the gerbil file, and went looking for an index of some sort. A few minutes later, Chris had opened up a search feature contained in the database. _Finally…_ he thought. He looked down at the keyboard and typed into the search box, "Redfield, Chris," and then decided to type in the rest of his first name. Chris then pressed the 'enter' button and attempted to be patient as the computer searched through all the files.

Several minutes later, the computer beeped signaling that it had finished searching. Chris was slightly surprised to find that there was not only one file about him, but twenty. He selected one at random, and opened it up. It was full of photos of him at his apartment, at work, walking outside, and other random places.

_What the hell?_ Chris thought, scrolling down through the pictures. Thoroughly creeped out, Chris closed out of the file with all the pictures, and opened another one. The second file contained pages upon pages of Chris' old medical records. After skimming through the pages, Chris closed the second file as well. The third file he opened seemed to be a report detailing what had happened to Chris since he'd been taken from his apartment. Bits of the report were circled, and there were notes next to the circled parts in the margins. The notes may have been in English, but they made no sense whatsoever to Chris. He realised that the report would probably be a good thing for him to have for reference. He printed the report out, folded it, and stuffed it into his pocket. He then began searching the database for information about his infection. He was only slightly surprised to find out that Wesker had invented the virus himself. There was plenty of information about the chemical properties of the virus, and the unfortunate fates of the hosts whom the virus had 'rejected.' There was little to no information about a cure, or a method to combat the effects of the virus on those who had been 'accepted.'

As he was getting ready to close the database and give up, Chris noticed a small paragraph at the bottom of a page about a substance that was used to dilute the virus to the point that it could be administered to humans.

_That's it!_ Chris thought. _I'll get my hands on a bunch of this stuff, and I'll be fine. Take __that__, Wesker!_ Grinning to himself, Chris printed out that page as well, and put it into his pocket along with the other papers.

It was only then that Chris realised getting back into the vent was going to be more difficult than it had been originally. He grabbed a stool from under one of the countertops, and placed it under the vent. Getting himself up into the vent, he discovered, was not the most difficult part of the operation. The more difficult part of what he was doing was going to be getting the vent cover back into place afterwards.

Once he'd wiggled the vent cover back into place, Chris started making his way back towards his room. Getting back took awhile longer because he only had a vague idea of the direction he'd come from. Part of him was surprised he made it back at all. After what felt like forever, Chris was finally back in his room. He'd carefully put the vent cover back, twisting each of the screws back into place afterwards.

Chris retrieved the notebook from its hiding place and sat down to write about the vents, the scientists, the gerbils, everything. He then sat down on his bed and reread the papers he'd printed out from the database, trying his best to absorb the information they contained. Feeling frustrated, he went back and read over some of the older stuff he'd written. When he got up to the previous day, all the details flooded back to him. He remembered how he'd lusted after Wesker, and a certain amount of guilt lodged in his chest. But then, he remembered how he'd broken through Wesker's usually cold, stoic demeanor. He remembered Wesker's deathgrip on the countertop and smiled to himself. He'd done that. And he'd made Wesker moan. Chris was certain Wesker hadn't intended him to hear it. But he had, and now it was etched into his memory.

Thinking about the whole situation resurrected a portion of that lust inside him, and by the time Chris had realised that reliving the scenario might not have been the best idea; his body had already reacted. He sighed, flopped down on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. He then unzipped his jeans and pulled them down far enough to free himself. As Chris wrapped his hand around his member and began stroking himself, he tried to think of anything but Wesker, but his thoughts kept trailing back to and settling on the blond man.

He gave up trying to fight his thoughts, and began to imagine that it was Wesker's hand on him and not his own. His hand moved gradually faster before his rhythm faltered as he brought himself closer and closer to completion; still imagining Wesker's hand on him.

"Wesker…" he whispered as he finished a few seconds later. Still breathing heavily as his mind cleared, Chris decided that he'd be better off going out again the same day to try to find some of the substance used to dilute the virus, instead of waiting until the next day. Chris changed his clothes, and then picked up the piece of paper with the paragraph about and picture of the substance he was looking for. The substance was an unpleasant shade of green.

_Not looking forward to injecting myself with a shit-ton of this stuff… _Chris thought to himself. _But, I guess it's the only way…_ He folded the pieces of paper and put it in one of his pockets. Grumbling slightly to himself, he dragged the chair back across the room and positioned it under the air vent. After carefully removing the screws and the vent cover, Chris hoisted himself up into the air duct. He figured the lab with the gerbils was as good a place as any to begin his search. He just hoped he'd be able to find the same room again. It was then that he realised that it didn't necessarily have to be the same exact room. The stuff he was looking for could be anywhere. He decided to investigate the first empty room he happened upon. The first empty room he came to was some type of library. He was slightly perplexed by the fact that there was a library smack-dab in the middle of a building full of laboratories. He wanted to take a look, but he was short on time, and doubted that there would be vials of caustic green liquid lying around.

The next room Chris happened upon was a laboratory that had shelves and shelves of cages. He wondered if it was the gerbil room from earlier. After carefully checking to be sure there was no one in the lab, he climbed down through the vent and dropped to the floor. Wasting no time, Chris hurried over to one of the cabinets and started rifling through its contents. He soon found a small rack holding several glass vials. The contents of one of them were a rather unpleasant shade of green. Chris' heart sped up as he whipped the piece of paper out of his pocket. The label on the vial in the picture said, '0127B.' Taking the vial out of the cabinet, Chris checked the label, and noticed that it said, '0127A."

"Dammit," Chris said aloud, putting the vial back in his place. Moving on to the next cabinet, Chris started looking through its contents, quickly growing impatient. There were no green vials in the second cabinet. Slammed the door to the second cabinet shit, Chris then moved on to the third. The third cabinet yielded a single vial of the correct liquid.

_Finally…_ Chris thought to himself. _One down, one million to go…_ Although, now that he thought about it, he didn't know how many vials of the serum it would take to combat the virus. It was just after he'd found the vial of serum that Chris heard voices from somewhere down the hallway. _Shit._ He thought. Chris hurried to grab a stool from under one of the countertops and scrambled back up into the air duct. He had just gotten the vent cover back into place before he heard the door to the lab slide open. A woman with short black hair and a white lab coat strolled into the room, absentmindedly ticking things off on the keyboard in her hands. One of the young scientists from earlier followed her into the room. The two of them wandered along the rows of cages, looking at the animals contained within, while the woman continued making notes on her clipboard.

"What the hell?" Chris heard her say.

"What?" her colleague replied.

"Look at that," she said, pointing at something. The young man's gaze followed her finger, as did Chris'.

_SHIT! _he thought to himself. He'd left the cabinet open. The woman made her way quickly across the lab and began hastily looking through the cabinet's contents.

"Call Wesker," she said urgently. "It's the 0127B serum that's missing. Call Wesker, dammit!" The two of them then rushed out of the laboratory. Chris was torn about what he should do. He didn't know whether he should book it back to his room and hope he got there before Wesker, or if he should continue his search for more vials of serum. After a few more seconds, he made his decision, and started off in that direction.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** **I don't own Chris and Wesker, because if I did, things would be different. I wrote this for fun, and I'm not profiting from it at all, etc. etc. ad nauseam. The things that are in italics are thoughts.**

Chapter Six:

Chris made his way through the air ducts as quickly as he could; looking for another laboratory that might hold the serum he was looking for. Peering down through the air duct of yet another laboratory, Chris decided that he might as well continue his search there. It wasn't until after he'd dropped to the floor and looked around that he realised he was in the same room in which he'd found the picture frame. The same room in which he'd sucked Wesker off…

_No. Now is not the time,_ Chris scolded himself, shaking his head.

Looking around the room, Chris noticed that there were far more shelves full of books in the room than cabinets. He sighed and made his way over to one of the cabinets. He had no idea how much time he had before Wesker would come looking for him, and he didn't want to find out what would happen when Wesker found him this time. Or did he? Pushing the thought from his mind, Chris began looking through the cabinet as quickly as he could.

A sense of desperation soon set in as Chris' mind kept bringing him back to the realization that his nightmare could come true if he didn't reverse his infection. He shook his head. He was going to do everything in his power to avoid that fate for himself, and the world in general. Chris eventually found another vial of the serum in one of the cabinets. He decided to try looking through the desk before moving on to another laboratory. As he was digging through one of the larger drawers, Chris heard the door slide open. He didn't stop digging through the drawer, both because he needed more of the serum, and because there was nowhere for him to go. He didn't have to turn around and look to know that it was Wesker. The older man chuckled as he strode across the room. Chris turned around and immediately settled into a defensive stance.

"While your heroic resistance might have been endearing at first, it has become tiresome," said Wesker. Moving at an inhuman speed, Wesker closed the distance between himself and Chris, pulling out his magnum and pressing the barrel into the side of the brunette's neck. Panic barely had time to register in Chris' brain as the blonde's body pressed up against him. Wesker ground his hips slightly against Chris, smirking again as the brunette flinched at the contact. Regardless of the imminent threat to his life, Chris realised that the lust was bubbling up inside him again. Wesker ground his hips against Chris a second time, laughing as the younger man squeezed his eyes shut, but made no attempt to move away. "I could drop you where you stand, and you still cannot resist me," the older man sneered.

"Sh-shut up," said Chris, opening his eyes and curling his hands into fists. Wesker lowered the gun, and Chris relaxed slightly, reluctantly realizing the truth in Wesker's statement. The older man could easily have killed him, but Chris found himself wanting yet again. Chris looked Wesker up and down, wondering why in the hell he was so drawn to the older man.

"What is it you want?" the blonde whispered. Chris' eyes fell on the gun that was still in Wesker's hand. The older man sighed. He slid the magazine out of the gun and shoved it into Chris' pocket before putting the rest of the gun into his own pocket. "Better?" The brunette nodded. "Good," said Wesker, before sliding his trench coat off and draping it over a nearby char. For a second, the two men just stared at each other, neither wanting to initiate the contact. And then Chris slowly drew closer to Wesker and put his lips to blonde's neck. "What is it you want?" Wesker asked again. Chris hesitated a moment before answering.

"You," he said quietly. "I want you." Chris' statement only further inflated Wesker's ego. He reached down and started to unbutton Chris' pants, and the younger man reciprocated the motion. Chris then wrapped his hand around Wesker's shaft, and the blonde sighed, in spite of himself. As his hand settled into a rhythm, Chris looked up at Wesker.

"I want to see your eyes," he said.

"No," Wesker replied. "You don't."

After a few more minutes, Chris dropped to his knees, and took Wesker into his mouth. The blonde hadn't expected it, but he wasn't about to argue. Chris was working Wesker with his mouth and left hand, and at the same time, he reached down between his legs and began stroking himself with his right hand. The older man looked down at his former subordinate.

"You look good like that, Christopher, on your knees with another man's cock in your mouth," said Wesker. Chris couldn't tell if Wesker was being genuine, or simply taunting him. He assumed it was the latter, and glared up at the older man. Wesker knotted the fingers of his right hand in Chris' hair and yanked the younger man backwards off of him.

"Don't you dare look at me like that when I've just paid you a compliment. Stand up." Chris got to his feet, letting his pants drop and bunch around his ankles. "Good boy. Now, turn around, and put your hands on the desk."

Chris turned around, only to notice large stacks of books and papers strewn across the entire surface of the desk.

"But-" he began. Wesker sighed, and with one sweep of his arm sent all the books and papers flying sideways off the desk.

"Hands on the desk," Wesker began. "Now." Chris complied, placing his hands flat on the desk. He knew what Wesker had in mind, and spread his legs a little more than shoulder width apart. Wesker smirked, before retrieving a small bottle of lube from one of his coat pockets. He popped the cap of the bottle open, and started preparing Chris for what was to come. The younger man tensed at the first touch, as he always had, but soon relaxed into Wesker's ministrations.

Once Chris had been sufficiently prepared, Wesker upended the bottle, spreading a generous layer of the liquid onto his member. Placing his hands on Chris' hips, Wesker carefully pushed the head of his shaft into Chris. He did so slowly, as to avoid drawing blood from the younger man. As Chris' body acclimated to the presence of Wesker inside him, he started to push back slightly against the blonde. Wesker got the hint, and continued pushing forward until he was buried to the hilt in the younger man. He withdrew almost completely before thrusting back in. He moved slowly at first, but his hips gradually began to move faster. His grip tightened on Chris' hips as he slammed into him again and again. Judging by the tightness now clenched around his cock, Wesker figured that Chris hadn't been with another man since the two of them had been together.

Chris gasped as Wesker found his prostate. As he repeated the action, a soft sound that seemed to be a cross between a whimper and a moan made its way out of the brunette's throat.

"Wesker?" Chris whispered.

"Yes, Christopher?" Wesker replied, trying to keep from sounding breathless.

"Could you turn me around?" Wesker pulled out of the younger man completely.

"Up on the desk," said Wesker. Chris turned around, sat down on the desk, and scooted forward to the very edge before spreading his legs. Wesker then slipped his shirt up and over his head before stepping between Chris' parted thighs. As Wesker entered him again, Chris wrapped his legs around the blonde's waist. Relishing every sound the younger man made, Wesker's hips resumed their previous velocity. Chris' body shook with every thrust, and he wrapped his arms around Wesker in an attempt to stabilize himself. If the contact bothered Wesker, he didn't let on that it did.

Taking one hand off of Chris' hip, Wesker reached down between their bodies, and began stroking Chris in time with his thrusts. Changing the angle of his hips, Wesker soon began hitting Chris' prostate dead-on. His grip on Wesker tightened, and his nails left deep scratches in the older man's skin.

Wesker was getting closer and closer to the edge, and the way Chris was panting in his ear told him that the younger man was nearing completion as well. The blonde's rhythm began to falter as he approached the point of no return, and he buried his face in Chris' neck to stifle a moan as he came. His entire body shuddered with the force of his release, and he stopped moving, his breathing labored and uneven. Chris clawed at Wesker's back and ground his hips, looking for some kind of friction from Wesker's softening member. Wesker resumed stroking Chris, admiring the way the younger man's back arched in response to the stimulation. Chris spilled himself into Wesker's hands with a guttural moan that may or may not have been the older man's name.

After detaching himself from Chris, Wesker took his time putting his clothes back on. Chris got down from the desk and pulled his jeans back up. Neither of them spoke until Chris saw Wesker slip something green into the pocket of his trench coat.

_The serum!_ Chris realised. "Hey!" He shouted. "Give that back!" Wesker laughed, and drew the vials from his pocket.

"These?" He asked, before dropping them to the floor and crushing them under the heel of his boot. "Oops."

"You fucking bastard!" Chris roared. "You're just pissed because I found a way around your plans." Wesker feigned surprise before laughing again.

"You think that's what you've done?" asked Wesker. "I hate to break it to you, Christopher, but the last two weeks of your life have been a lie! You were never infected. The entire thing was an experiment to see whether or not a person who believed they were infected would begin exhibiting the symptoms of the infection, minus the presence of any actual contagion," Wesker explained. Chris swayed on the spot, suddenly feeling dizzy on top of a massive urge to vomit.

"What about-"

"There was no infection. There were no actual symptoms. There were no actual side effects. You, Christopher, are simply a slut. A dirty, shameless whore, but not a bad piece of ass if I do say so myself," Wesker said, and a triumphant grin spread across his lips. Chris had heard enough. He lunged forward and locked his hands around Wesker's throat.

"I hope you burn in hell," Chris hissed through gritted teeth as he pressed down on Wesker's Adam's apple with his thumbs. To his surprise, Wesker just laughed. With inhuman speed, he whipped a hypodermic needle out of one of his pockets, and jammed it into the side of Chris' neck, and the brunette slumped to the floor.

Chris awoke with a start, and a quick moment of panic set in before he realised where he was. He was sitting at his computer, with a half-typed email to Claire on the screen. A few lines of gibberish had been added as a result of his having fallen asleep on the keyboard. Chris reached up and ran his fingers through his hair.

_What a weird fuckin' dream…_ he thought to himself. Getting up from his computer chair, he padded down the hallway to the bathroom. Chris did his business and flushed the toilet. It wasn't until he turned around to wash his hands that he looked in the mirror. The eyes staring back at him were a violent shade of orange.

- The end.


End file.
